“This is a big story. I want to get my film to the paper right away. It will mean a lot to me, officer.”
“But not half as much as it will to the law, son. You’ll have to come along.”
Flash was taken back by this development. His film might be tied up for hours or even days by the police. Yes, there would be a big story in the Ledger about the arson plot, but it looked very much as if it would not be illustrated by any art from Flash Evans’ camera.
Then he thought of a plan.
“Listen,” he pleaded, “why not let me take the film to the Ledger office? I’ll have the picture developed and printed before they even know I’ve taken one at headquarters. I’ll run off some extra prints and you can send a man to pick them up. That way, we both win.”
The officer grinned good-naturedly.
“Maybe I shouldn’t do it,” he said, “but I will. You run along and I’ll have a man over there in thirty minutes.”
No taxi cab was in sight as Flash reached the street. He ran three blocks and finally hailed one.
“Drop me off at the rear entrance of the Ledger,” he ordered the driver.
He leaped out as the cab presently stopped. Tossing a handful of change into the driver’s hand, he ran into the building. In the doorway he collided full tilt with Old Herm.